Happy Endings
by Molly4
Summary: Scott happiness, some romance. R&R! My first BP fic so be gentle. Enjoy!


Disclaimers: I don't own Scott Guber, though I am a loyal Guber gal!  
  
  
A/N: I was in the middle of writing this really angst filled Scott story, but I had to take a break and write this. (I was getting depressed just reading my work over.) This is my first BP fanfiction and I haven't seen all of the episodes, so a few things may be off. Please, no flames, only constructive criticism. It's set in the future, a year or two. This was actually sort of inspired by an article written by Dave Barry.  
  
  
Happy Endings  
By: Molly  
~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
A light snow fell on the city of Boston. A baby crying awoke Scott Guber from his peaceful slumber. He blinked once, then twice. He sat up in bed, pulling on his robe and sliding his feet into his slippers. It was a familiar routine, one he kept up every night when Jonathan just wouldn't sleep.   
  
Scott didn't dare wake his wife from her peaceful sleep. She needed the sleep, a lot more than he did, actually. She worked so hard, taking care of their baby, keeping the house neat, putting up with him; she truly deserved some time to rest. God, he loved her.  
  
Scott shuffled slowly out of the room, taking one last glance at his angel, his beautiful wife. He often wondered how he could be so lucky. Gently, Scott opened the door to the nursery. Jonathan lay in his crib, emitting a piercing wail. With skilled hands, Scott reached into the crib and picked Jonathan up.   
  
Bouncing Jonathan a little, Scott settled down into a rocking chair with ducks painted all over it. He traced his fingertips over the soft skin of Jonathan's face as he rocked. He marveled at the tiny creature that was his son, not for the first time. His baby was so delicate, so fragile. He had tiny little hands, and tiny little feet, and skin so rosy red and soft.   
  
Scott still remembered the delivery room when he first held his son, as Jonathan's tiny little hand wrapped around his finger. He had been overcome with a rush of emotions, pride, joy, love, and fear. He was afraid that he'd be a rotten father. And for the first time in his life, Scott had felt incredibly vulnerable. He had always known that at any second, on any day, he himself could die, cease to exist. And that was okay. He could face that. He could also face the fact that someday people he knew and loved would die. And he reluctantly accepted that fact too. But now he had a son. Just the mere thought of something bad happening to Jonathan was enough to make Scott weep. He could still remember the time when Jonathan had come down with an awful fever and he'd clutched Jon in his arms and ran into the hospital, praying for someone to take the pain away from his child. When Jonathan was happy, Scott was the happiest man alive, but when he was sad or sick or hurt, Scott almost became physically ill himself. He couldn't stand to see his precious little boy in trouble. He was so much more important to him than anybody ever had been. It scared Scott. And it made him happy.  
  
Scott kissed Jonathan on the forehead, trying to soothe his cries which had not ceased, but had become a little softer. Scott had to smile a little. He knew what would make him stop crying. It always did.  
  
"Inchworm...inchworm....measuring the marigolds...." Scott's voice rang through the room and Jonathan almost instantly stopped crying. Scott continued to rock him and sing as Jonathan gave a dry hiccup and looked up at Daddy curiously.  
  
Scott felt a tear of joy roll down his cheek. Soon, in a few years, Jonathan would start school and make friends. He'd grow distant from his parents as he'd enter his teen years, almost like one of the students Scott dealt with every day. Scott knew that one day Jonathan would grow up and move away. He'd have his own life and his own family. But no matter what his tiny little hand would never let go of his finger. Not in his heart.   
  
These were the moments when all of it seemed worth it. The crying at three in the morning, the diapers, the drooling, all of it seemed like nothing when Scott could simply hold his baby, his precious little boy and sing to him. With a fatherly hand, Scott brushed a few blonde ringlets off of Jonathan's forehead. He looked like a little angel. Sweet rosy cheeks, a halo of blonde curls, and a smile reserved just for Scott. Even when his wife told him he just had gas, Scott knew better. That smile was meant just for him. It was just for Daddy.  
  
Jonathan cooed softly in his arms and Scott felt the same emotions that he'd felt right after Jon has been born. This baby, his child, this little life, depended on him. It was scary and it was joyful and it was confusing. There were times when Scott felt like whatever he did, he was doing it wrong. Then there were other times, without all the baby guide books and videos, that Scott was the perfect father, without even trying. Scott loved to hold Jonathan, to feel his tiny heart beating when he held him close, the soft up and down motion of his stomach making Scott feel at ease, no matter how bad of a day he'd had. Jonathan made it all go away.  
  
Scott didn't stop singing to him, even after Jonathan's tiny eyelids fluttered and closed, and his breathing slowly evened out. Still Scott rocked and sang. He wanted to be the model father. He wanted to be everything to Jonathan that his father had not been. He wanted to hold him when he cried and kiss away all his boo-boos. He wanted to have man-to-man talks with him, after he learned to talk of course. Jonathan could be anything he wanted to be, that much Scott would promise him. Scott would not push him into some profession Jon did not care for just because Scott wanted him to. He didn't care if Jonathan didn't want to become an educator, though it would be nice. Who knew? With Jonathan's build he could grow up to be a football star. That would all be up to Jon though.   
  
When Scott thought about his life, his marriage, his child he almost didn't believe it had happened to him. He was not used to being as blissfully happy as he was when he held Jonathan, or when he watched his wife sleeping. Scott Guber was not used to happy endings, where everything fell neatly into place and they all lived happily ever after. He felt blessed when he looked at all he had, every thing that God had blessed his with. He didn't deserve it.  
  
"Scott, honey, come to bed." Scott looked up to find his wife, standing in the doorway, looking groggy. "I'll take him," she offered.  
  
Scott stopped singing briefly. Though her hair was pasted to one side of her head, and her eyes were barely open, she'd never looked more beautiful.  
  
"It's okay," he assured her softly, feeling another tear roll down his cheek. "I don't mind taking care of Jonathan."  
  
She broke into a small, tired smile. "Okay, sweetie, but don't be long. You have work in the morning." She turned to leave, but stopped. "Scott?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I love you," she answered.  
  
"I love you too," Scott replied. "Good night," he added his voice trembling a little. He had to be the luckiest man alive.  
  
"Good night Mr. Guber," she answered, and he could practically feel her smirking.   
  
Scott heard her footsteps as she walked back to their bedroom. He smiled, thinking of her, and the million reasons why he loved her. He stood up reluctantly. He did have work in the morning, another day of disrespectful teens grinding his last nerve, and he had to be at least half-awake to hold on to what authority he had. With a sigh he placed Jonathan down in his crib. His tiny eyes were still closed. Brushing a few curls off Jonathan's forehead, Scott bent down and kissed him gently good night.  
  
"I love you," he whispered, as he spread a blue blanket over Jonathan.   
  
Scott retreated to his room slowly, part of him wanting to go back and cradle Jonathan in his arms again. It was such a wonderful feeling, being a father. Quietly, he slipped back into bed, careful not to disturb his wife, who'd fallen asleep again. His eyes closed slowly, ready for a deep sleep. In the morning there'd be work, and a dozen little problems at the high school, but now there was peace.  
  
And Scott had no trouble sleeping, safe in the knowledge that Jonathan's hand would never let go of his finger. No matter what Jonathan would always be the little boy he cradled protectively in his arms. Always.  
  
And they all lived happily ever after.   
  
Even Scott.  
  
THE END  
  
A/N: Yeah, I never did give the wife a name. It's whoever you, the reader thinks it is. Come up with your own conclusions as to who he married. This was just my attempt at some Scott happiness, because he deserves it oh so much. R&R! 


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